


Check Me Out

by wisia



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 03:44:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2052291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisia/pseuds/wisia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve wasn’t a narcissistic person. Far from it. But…it just so happened Steve glanced down and checked himself out. Like, really checked himself out. At least that’s what Tony thinks. Which A) was weird and B) can you blame him? Steve was hot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Check Me Out

**Author's Note:**

> Based off this:
> 
> http://capn-murica.tumblr.com/post/90643035962/steve-just-looks-down-like-lookit-that-body-im

     Tony did a double take. Because, yes. That happened. Not very often, of course, but it did. His genius brain processed things faster than most people could think, much less even finish taking in the problem. But this? This was his brain doing a checkup. A scientific retesting, multiple trails with blind studies and shit. Because Tony’s eyes isn’t sure he saw what he did see. That Captain America, all around wholesome guy as humble as humble pie—patriotic flavor he might add—just checked himself out. And Tony means really checked himself out.

                Steve took a quick glance down his body. Not that Tony could blame him because Steve had one fine body. Six pack abs. Firm buttocks. Just entirely gorgeous—and by the way, all entirely his now that Tony got his head out of ass and asked Steve out properly. He was the blond that walked straight out of everyone’s dream. Or literally in Tony’s case because once again,  _his_  and childhood fantasies. There was also the fact that Steve walked past him every morning in the kitchen after a long good work out, all sweaty and hot.

                Anyway, that—that was Tony’s brain finished running the stimulations—wasn’t the point. It was that Steve had just fucking checked himself out. And that was entirely uncharacteristic of him—so far out of the humble pie mentioned earlier. Now, Tony. Tony could have dismissed this as a trick of his eyes. He was running on 78 hours of no sleep and a shit ton of caffeine after all. Except Steve turned his head side to side, blue eyes sweeping the area. Making sure that no one saw him. He looked relieved for a moment, but then Steve’s eyes landed on Tony—and no, he totally did not stop in his tracks in the middle of SHIELD’s corridor because of Steve’s totally un-Steve like action.

                Steve flushed, pink brushed across his cheeks and probably the back of his neck if Tony were to guess. Tony, well, he kicked himself into walking again, striding up to Steve. He wasn’t affected, no.

                “Hey Cap,” Tony said lightly as he came within a respective distance. Ha, came. Poor choice of words.

                “Hello,” Steve said politely and determinedly looked everywhere but at his boyfriend. Which, as Tony knew, was a pretty piss poor technique of dancing around the subject.

                “You had a meeting?” He asked. Tony snorted. “Allergies. I’m allergic to meetings. How can you even mention that? It gives me hives just hearing it.”

                “Sure, Tony.” Steve smiled, and everything was fine for that millisecond.

                “So…,” Tony drawled out. “What is your de-dedicated hard working self doing, standing out here?”

                That was a near miss because Tony almost said delectable. Steve probably wouldn’t appreciate it at that moment.

                “Nothing.” Steve said quickly. “Uh, I mean…”

                Steve shrugged a little, which was really quite believable from his face that was plastered with sincerity. “Just thinking.”

                “Thinking,” Tony repeated. It was a lie, but Tony could wait. “About how hot you are?”

                Or not. Honestly, Tony’s mouth had no filters. Absolutely none at all.

                “What?” Steve was super red now. That only made Steve looked—well like an overripe tomato and that wasn’t the best of pictures because Tony did not want to bite into a food item that couldn’t even decide if it was a fruit or a vegetable.

                “No. I wasn’t—“Steve stammered and Tony just couldn’t help but barrel onward.

                “Lying?” Tony tsked. “What would the American public think? You’re supposed to be an upstanding role model citizen person, Steve.”

                That shook Steve right out of embarrassment into exasperation.

                “Tony,” and didn’t that send a shiver down Tony’s spine. “Stop it.”

                “Stop what? Talking?”

                “N—yes. Stop talking,” Steve commanded and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Tony obeyed. For half a second. Really, that counted as ten minutes from him.

                “But it’s so interesting. Does it give you a thrill to check out yourself in public? Oo—that’s kinky, why I never knew.”

                Steve’s face was all pinched. Entirely unattractive. Maybe a little cute though.

                “Come on,” Tony said. “Not that there’s anything wrong with admiring yourself. I do it all the time. Probably healthy thing to do too.”

                He gestured to himself. Immaculate suit and signature goatee trimmed to perfection. Steve gaped at him before recovering.

                “You really are—“

                “Handsome,” Tony supplied.

                “Narcissistic,” Steve said.

                “That’s harsh, Steve. I prefer incredibly self aware. And,” Tony poked him in the chest. “That still doesn’t answer my question. What’s with the—“

                Tony copied Steve’s gesture of looking down and then back up. Steve slapped a hand over his face.

                “It’s not—I’m not checking myself out.”

                “No?”

                “No,” Steve said firmly as if that ended the conversation.

                “Then why?” Because Tony was relentless in his pursuit of knowledge.

                Steve sighed. “It feels strange.”

                Tony raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you get used to this? Because I did?”

                And if Tony felt him up and groped him, well, Tony had no shame. Plus it was justifiable. Steve surprisingly didn’t stop Tony’s wandering hands. He did pulled them to the side because some agents were passing by and Steve was considerate like that.

                “It’s not the body though that is still strange,” Steve admitted. “It’s actually the clothes.”

                “Uh, what?” Because that made no sense at all. Not when Steve looked pretty damn good in jeans and a tight t-shirt. It seriously made Tony want to climb him like a monkey if he didn’t already have the privilege to do so.

                “I don't fit in.” Steve fiddled with the hem of shirt. “Everyone’s dressed, you know, nice. And I’m here wearing these.”

                Tony took that in. And laughed. He couldn’t help it as Steve scowled.

                “Tony.”

                “No,” Tony said. “It’s just—you want a uniform?”

                “It wouldn’t help to look a little more put together,” Steve said honestly. And Tony could see where Steve was coming from.

                “But don’t you normally wear your grandpa clothes?”

                 Steve was distraught enough that he didn't even seem to register Tony's description of his standard chinos and button up shirt, designed to make Steve Rogers put together and confirmed him a relic of the past.

                “They’re…Clint did something to the washing machine and I didn’t really have anything else.”

                Tony laughed again before he hugged Steve. Though, he made a mental note to get Barton back for ruining his washing machine.

                “You need clothes, all you got to do is ask," Tony mimed handing over a credit card. "Seriously. You’re dating me. I have money. Go throw it around at some store.”

                “That’s irresponsible,” Steve said automatically. Because he refused to be Tony’s well kept man in that way.

                “Yes, well,” Tony said. “Forgetting that. The clothes don’t make you. You can be here even without being all dressed up.”

                “I know,” Steve said and rested his forehead against Tony’s shoulder. “It’s just—“

                “You can’t help feeling it,” Tony finished. “How about I show you how much I appreciate you wearing these clothes instead?”

                “Yeah?” Steve murmured.

                “Yeah.”


End file.
